I Want to Stay
by Cats070911
Summary: When Barbara and Tommy attend a conference, Barbara receives too much attention from a leading criminologist. Thinking the man is a joke, Tommy makes a decision that has such dire consequences it might mean he loses Barbara forever.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply. I have been busy murdering people (not literally), so thought I should try to remember how to write something more romantic... well, eventually it is... This was going to be the basis of a longer story, but I turned it into a few chapters instead.

* * *

"Have you seen this?" Barbara said as she burst into Tommy's office.

He looked up and frowned. His sergeant was red in the face and he expected steam to jet from her ears any second. "What?"

She waved a piece of paper in the air. "This!"

"My eyesight isn't what it once was. I have trouble reading 8-point font from four foot away when it is being waved around in Hurricane Havers."

Barbara grunted something it pleased Tommy not to hear, then slapped the paper onto his desk. "Paragraph Three, the bit that says 'Intuitive Methods of Detection, Guest Lecturer: Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers."

"Ahh, yes... that."

"Don't ahh, yes that me. Did you do this? Part of your 'personal development of Havers plan'? Because I am not happy. Not happy at all. And I'm not doing it."

"Did you read paragraphs five and six? You will see I have to endure a lot more."

"This is not a 'who is worse off' competition. You can speak eloquently in public. You went to Eton; you're trained for this stuff. I'd be that nervous I'd… well, you know the rest of the saying."

"Well, we don't want that."

"So you'll fix it?" The tension in her shoulders eased, and she sat in his visitors' chair.

"If you mean will I get you out of it, then no. I will help you become a more confident speaker." He held up his hand when she protested.

"Fine!" Barbara turned and stormed from his office, slamming the door so loudly that Tommy jumped.

* * *

"Still not happy," Barbara said as they arrived at the conference venue.

"Just remember what we practised and it will be fine."

Barbara harrumphed and folded her arms across her chest which made Tommy smile. He turned to look out of the driver's window so she would not see how much her petulance amused him.

The conference centre was, in reality, a large, impersonal chain hotel with over 200 rooms. The reception foyer was bland and soulless, and Tommy sensed the rooms would be full of deathly dull creams and faux birch. Tommy twitched his nose and tried not to be judgemental. It was far from his taste in decor. As they checked in he noticed a sign explaining politely that the criminologists had been assigned rooms on the top floor, inspectors and above to the middle, and sergeants and below to the entrance level. The hotel's idea of efficiency offended him. There was nothing about this conference that would be enjoyable save for spending some time with his sergeant away from the time pressure of solving crimes.

Tommy carried Barbara's bag to her room. A large sliding glass door opened into a verdant lawn edged with hedges trimmed with military precision. "Not too bad," he said cheerfully.

"Yeah, surprisingly nice. And close to the restaurant."

Tommy smiled. "Yes, that is important. Shall we meet there in twenty minutes?"

Barbara glanced at her watch. "Yeah, I am hungry."

"I assumed that. see you then."

Tommy took his bag upstairs and felt instantly guilty. His room, although identical to Barbara's, faced further south so that the sun streamed in. It overlooked a sprawling lawn that led to a large ornamental lake. As hotel views went, this was quite peaceful. He sighed. "Pity you're stuck down there," he muttered as he hastily unpacked.

* * *

He arrived at the restaurant just as Assistant Commissioner Hillier approached from the other side. "Ah, Lynley. Settled in?"

"Yes, Sir."

Tommy noticed Barbara trying to sneak around behind them and gave her a disapproving look. After years together, they didn't need more than a quick glance to understand exactly what the other was thinking. Barbara rolled her eyes as she moved next to him.

"Ah, Sergeant Havers, there you are. Ready for your big session? I hope Lynley's faith in you is not misplaced. It is important that the Met appears professional and trustworthy."

Tommy winced even before Barbara gave him a withering look. "Thank you, Sir, for your confidence in me. I can guarantee that you will find my style somewhat different to most lecturers, but if the Inspector believes I can do the Met proud, then I hope I live up to his expectations."

Lynley's face was impassive as he watched Hillier try to decipher whether Barbara had just insulted him. Finally, Hillier must have given up and decided it was best to say something neutral. "Yes, well good luck, Havers."

"Swarmy, self-serving piece of dog…"

"Yes, yes," Tommy said as he took her elbow and steered her towards the buffet. "Come on, before lunch gets cold."

* * *

Tommy could feel Barbara's foot tapping beside his throughout the long introduction by Hillier. Finally, their boss stopped and handed over to the head criminologist from the University of Essex.

"Welcome, gentlemen." A slight murmur when around the room from the significant number of women present. The man lifted his glasses and peered at the audience. "Ah… and ladies."

Barbara leant across. "He looks like Mr Bean."

Tommy coughed to cover his laugh. "He does, but stop it."

Malcolm Scott moved his hands nervously in a half flicker then shifted one leg across the other and took an unusual step forward. His slightly balding head, nerdy brown corduroy jacket with worn leather elbow patches, straggly brown hair and crooked nose added to a sense of Beanness, even though the resemblance was more in his behaviour than his look. Right on cue, as he started talking, he tripped over the microphone cable and knocked the lectern. As he reached for it he bumped his head and ended up falling awkwardly into a chair. With a quick glance around, he rose then continued as if chaos was his normal state. Most of the audience were biting the soft flesh between their thumb and forefinger or finding other ways to stifle their laughter.

"Mr Bean 2 we should call him." Barbara leant over. "He's going to be a hard act to follow."

"Apparently he is brilliant."

"At what? Stand up comedy?"

"Don't be uncharitable, Barbara." He smiled as she grunted and turned her attention back to Scott.

Half an hour later Scott's discussion came to an abrupt end when he flicked the old style slide projector back and forth so quickly that the lamp blew. "Thank the stars he's finished. Oh shit, I'm on."

Genuine fear contorted her face into a semi-rictus. Tommy leant over and took her hand. "You'll be fine. Remember, just look at me if you get lost or scared. I'm... like your haven. Just pretend there's no one else but me here."

"Ta." Barbara nodded. She had gripped his fingers so tightly that when she released them, they throbbed. "But then I might really say something unbecoming of the Hillier's vision for the Met."

He smiled. This time it was not amusement but his increasingly familiar urge to kiss her. He closed his eyes. "You'll be perfect. You'll wow them."

"Wow them? This isn't Miss World."

This time he did not disguise his thoughts. He grinned salaciously. "Pity, I'd love to see you stand up there in a swimsuit."

Barbara's jaw dropped then snapped shut. "Oh, ha bloody ha. Just to give Hillier a conniption?"

"Among other reasons. See, you're smiling. That's much better. Now, up you go. You will be brilliant."

Tommy watched proudly as Barbara did wow the audience. Most of the time she looked at him, but she disguised it well with a routine, but unseeing sweep of her head around the room. She was direct, clearly explaining the difference between theory taught at Hendon and the practicalities in the field. She used several of their cases to illustrate her approach.

"And being partnered with someone who has a different outlook on life is vital to achieving the broadest view of a suspect or witness. My partner of the last decade is better educated, comes from a more privileged background, and has all the female suspects swooning. That's a great distraction by the way, as it gives me time to sum them up. And if they pretend they don't fancy him, then I really am suspicious of them."

Laughter rippled around the room. Someone clapped too enthusiastically and with odd syncopation. Tommy glanced over to see Mr Bean 2 standing and clapping before pulling out his phone and taking photos of Barbara. Tommy's protective instinct roared to life. "She is _my_ sergeant, mate," he muttered. He was one second away from going over and punching the odious little man when Barbara finished. Everyone clapped.

Scott walked over and grabbed Barbara, then kissed her on the cheek. "Wonderful, Sergeant. Wonderful."

Tommy saw Barbara's face tighten. He jumped to his feet and strode towards them. She looked relieved. "Right on cue," she told the audience, "my partner, DI Lynley."

Tommy raised his hand and waved, painting on a smile. He paused long enough for it to be polite before he seized her hand and pulled her gently towards him. It surprised him that she did not shake him free, but her hand was trembling. He squeezed it reassuringly and led her back to the table.

"I feel like I need to scrub my face."

Tommy let her hand go. "A bathroom break?"

"Yeah, ta." Barbara did not sit but continued to the door.

Tommy sat and looked back at the small dais as Scott introduced the next speaker while his eyes never left Barbara until she exited the room. Tommy disliked the man intensely, and if Scott thought he had a chance with her, Tommy was confident she would reject Mr Bean 2 instantly. The real question was, if he ever picked up enough courage, would she also reject him?

* * *

"Thank goodness that's over," Barbara said as she stood and stretched. She waited until the aisle between the tables emptied before she stepped out. "What time is breakfast?"

Tommy had waited behind her, pressing as close to her as he dared. "Eight, I believe."

She looked at her watch. "That's nine hours away. Why can't they eat at a decent time like good working class coppers?"

He was bemused but also wary of a them-versus-us argument. He did not have the energy for that tonight. "We've just finished dinner."

"And the speeches. The dull and never-ending speeches."

"Just be grateful that breakfast is a scheduled event or we would back in here for more lectures while we gobbled our wheaties."

She paused as they reached the corridor, but turned and walked towards her room still talking to him. Tommy automatically accompanied her. "Hmm, point taken. I couldn't stand any more of that." She stopped at her door. "All afternoon it felt as if Scott was watching me. I'm glad they sat us a long way away at dinner, but I could feel him watching me. And if his Bean antics weren't enough, he has appallingly bad breath too."

Barbara opened the door and waited for him to enter. Tommy hesitated but decided the risk of being seen entering her room was less than his need to stay close to her. "He looks as if he would. Should I bribe a waitress to ensure we are always seated beyond his breathing range?"

"Yes, just don't offer her your body."

Her words made him stare at her. Her voice was slightly playful, but not enough to be sure she was implying that his body was spoken for. He grinned at her. "Never. I am extremely particular about who I offer my body to, Barbara."

"Good to know." She threw her bag onto the only chair, then sat on the bed and bounced up and down to test the springs. The frame groaned in protest. "So am I."

"You offer my body to people?" Tommy sat next to her.

"No, I meant my body. I am fussy who I offer it to. No, actually I don't offer it to anyone." Her face flushed deeply. "You know what I mean. How did we start this conversation?"

"I know, but it was fun to see your reaction." He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "You don't have to worry about Mr Bean. You have me to protect you."

"My white knight?"

"Something like that." He kissed the top of her head.

Since the Thompson case, they had grown physically closer, often touching each other on the arm or shoulder. A week ago that had gone further. Barbara had been at his flat going through a hodge-podge of notes to write up their reports. When they finished, he offered her a drink and put on some Debussy. As they sat sipping whiskey, he had put his arm around her. Instead of pulling away, she had snuggled against him. They had talked about Tania and their reactions, and how lonely they both were except for each other. It had surprised Barbara that he did not consider he had many friends, but she understood. They both did. Without the other, they no reason to live. Not they either of the said as much, but it comforted Tommy that they had taken a significant step forward. Now, when the time was right, he needed to move it forward again.

He looked down. She was watching him, almost expectantly. He moved closer. "Barbara... I... should go."

She had also leant towards his face and now jerked back. "Yes, it's getting late, and you have a big day tomorrow, " she told him as she stood, her strained voice sounding like a schoolmarm.

"If I stay any longer..." Tommy pushed himself off the soft bed and stepped close to her. He put his hand on her arm and rubbed it gently. She closed her eyes. "We have your reputation to think of, and..."

Barbara pulled from his arm and stood. "Of course, Sir. Both our reputations. Good night." She opened the door.

"Goodnight, Barbara. I'll see you at breakfast."

"Goodnight, Sir. Sleep well."

The door closed in his face. "I want to stay," he murmured as he rested his head on the pale fake timber, "more than anything."


	2. Chapter 2

Tommy slept fitfully in the two hours he got any rest. Most of the night he paced his room. An uneasiness settled on him like snow. At first, it was light and barely noticeable. Then it fell over his mood in a series of increasingly violent storms until it was so thick and heavy he could barely breathe. He showered and shaved but with a shaky hand, he nicked his cheek leaving an angry line just under his left eye. Barbara would ask him about it and he felt foolish about confessing that he had fretted all night about their parting. His justification was that if he had kissed her, he would not have left. He had not wanted to leave. He looked in the mirror. "I wanted to stay. I want to stay. Every night. Damn it!"

While it seemed perfectly natural in one way that their first kiss would lead straight to bed, Tommy was not sure he wanted that. He needed her to understand his love was not about sex. Yes, ultimately he wanted that too, but mostly he wanted to show he loved her, and to enjoy her love, just by lying together, relaxing in a way neither of them had done since childhood; being free to just be themselves without pretension or expectation. He closed his eyes and smiled. He would tell her he loved her. He would lean over at breakfast and whisper it in her ear, along with a question he needed her to answer. His new determination helped to push aside his disquiet, but somewhere at the back of his mind, the fear still lurked. It would go as soon as he saw her.

* * *

Tommy was the second person to breakfast. They had rearranged the dining room into smaller tables. He found one by the window that seated only two people. He might have to share her during the day, but he was not sharing her now. He poured himself a cup of tea from the black-handled steel jug that was so ubiquitous amongst chain hotels. The buffet looked adequate but unappetising. White bowls filled with limp fruit in cloudy liquid sat beside oversized clear plastic dishes of cheap cereals. The heat lamps in the overly hot bain-marie glared yellow light at an insipid and defenceless array of fried eggs, watery bacon, baked beans swimming in an almost orange tomato sauce, and tomato halves topped with burnt cheese. He wrinkled his nose and returned to his seat.

Ten minutes passed with no sign of Barbara. For her to miss the beginning of breakfast when she had her choice of food to pick over was unheard of. He rang her phone. There was no answer, and it passed to voicemail. He hung up without leaving a message assuming she was in the bathroom and would be down soon. The earlier uneasiness resurfaced leaving him flushed and worried.

"Are you eating, Sir, or waiting for someone?"

Tommy looked up to see an attractive but slightly overweight waitress smiling at him. "Oh, waiting." He glanced at his watch. "Actually, I will go and find my sergeant. She was supposed to meet me at eight."

He hurried down the corridor and knocked on the door. "Barbara. It's me. I know you're probably still mad at me, but you need to eat breakfast."

There was no answer. He knocked again. The hair at the base of his skull prickled. "Barbara! Barbara!" He banged his fist hard on the timber. "Open the door. Please."

Again there was no answer. Something was wrong. He dialled his phone. Her annoying musical tone echoed behind the door. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his mind. Barbara needed his help, not his panic. He dialled his phone again."Sir, it's Lynley. I believe Malcolm Scott has kidnapped DS Havers."

"What? Don't be preposterous." Hillier sounded more confused than angry. "You can't accuse him of that. And where is Havers?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be calling you. She's not in her room and hasn't come for breakfast. The man was obsessed with her yesterday. I think he has taken her."

"You are jumping to conclusions. Is she answering her phone?"

"No, I can hear it ringing inside her room."

"I'll come down. What room?"

"One twelve."

"On my way. Stay there and do nothing stupid."

When the line cleared, Tommy immediately dialled his constable, DC Nkata. "Winston, phone Stuart. I want both of you up here. Barb... DS Havers has been kidnapped."

"Sir? Kidnapped? By whom?"

"Malcolm Scott, a criminologist. He developed an unhealthy obsession with her yesterday. She is not in her room, and I know he has taken her. We're at Northgate Manor, it's one of those large conference hotels in Essex."

He hung up. He could not face more questions right now. He needed to consider everything. Barbara was still alive, he was sure of that. If not, his gut would tell him. He rued not obeying his instinct last night and returning to her. Now Scott had the advantage of several hours. He closed his eyes but opened them when an image of Barbara lying trussed up, gagged and blindfolded appeared. He tried to wipe the picture from his mind. It seemed inappropriate that she was dressed in her underwear. "I'm a fool," he muttered, "I should have stayed."

He looked at the door. Had she heard him tell her he wanted to stay? Did she know he loved her? What if... she died without knowing? He ran his hand through his hair. "Arghhh!"

"Lynley," Hillier said, "tell me what happened."

Tommy quickly explained how Scott had made Barbara feel uncomfortable. He told Hillier an abridged version of how he had escorted her to her room. "I think she wanted me to stay awhile, but I was thinking about what people might say, so I left her. And now... to hell what anyone thought. She's my partner, I should have kept her safe."

"You could have swapped rooms if you were worried," Hillier said bluntly.

That made Tommy feel worse. "We need to check Scott's room. I have already sent for Lafferty and DC Nkata. Then we need to start a systematic search..."

Hillier held up his hand. "First, we don't know if Havers is missing. Second, we have no proof that Scott has her. We need to locate him. Third, if we cannot find her, I am putting DCI Mathews in charge of the investigation."

"But Havers is _my_ partner."

"Precisely why you are not leading this case. You are too... emotionally invested. And you are a key witness." Hillier put his hand on Tommy's arm. "I know what she means to you. If she is missing, we will find her."

"Do you? Do you have any idea how... impotent I feel not doing anything?"

"You will do everything you can, just as we will, but you are not leading this."

Hiller called Jim Mathews down and explained the potential situation. He was a competent young officer, fast-tracked as Lynley had been. Unaware that Tommy had refused promotion three times to stay with Barbara, the man was always a little smug with him as he believed they had passed Tommy over. Mathews' face showed genuine concern that an officer may have someone may have taken an officer. He smiled tightly at Tommy, a genuinely sympathetic look as if he understood far more than he was letting on. Tommy nodded. Perhaps it was beneficial to have a perceptive officer run the case.

"I'll see the manager and send someone to bring the key for this room. I will discreetly search for Scott. If he is not in the hotel, I will search his room."

Hillier nodded. "Thank you. Lynley has already sent for Lafferty so if Scott is not in, just do a preliminary search. We may need forensic evidence."

"Understood, Sir," Mathews said before turning to Tommy. "We'll find her Lynley."

Tommy nodded.

* * *

It was five minutes before the Assistant Manager bustled down the corridor with a master key. "We have no trouble in our hotel," he told them as if he thought they blamed him.

Tommy quickly surveyed the man's demeanour. There was something not right, but Tommy could not put his finger on it. "I am sure you don't."

Inside, the room was much as it had been when he had left. Barbara's case was open, and she had thrown her trousers and shirt in a pile on the floor beside it. The bed still had the indentations of where they had sat. The bathroom light was on, and the robe behind the door was missing. The only sign of a struggle was her phone lying facedown by the bed. Tommy kicked it over and groaned when he saw the screen was cracked.

"He must have taken her soon after I left."

Hillier frowned. "I admit it looks as if Havers left involuntarily."

Tommy looked at the Assistant Manager as he shifted from one foot to the other. "Is there CCTV footage of the corridor? We need to see any from 10:45 last night onwards."

The man looked as if he had just been told of his imminent death. "Yes... I... he told me she was his girlfriend"

Tommy turned and reached for the man. "What."

Hillier stepped between them. "Who told you?" he demanded. His voice was even more savage than Tommy's.

"Err... Mr... Scott. He said he wanted to surprise her. I thought..."

Tommy leant forward. "How much did he pay you?"

"Noth..." The man looked down. "One hundred pounds."

"And you didn't think that was suspicious? If he was her boyfriend why not just knock on the door?"

"I..."

"Were greedy. I imagine Scott didn't offer to pay, did he? That would have been your suggestion."

The man shuffled his feet. "Wages here are quite low."

"What time was this?"

"About eleven. Maybe a bit later."

Tommy's phone rang. He pushed past the pathetic excuse for a man into the corridor. "Lynley."

"Tommy, it's Jim. Did you find anything?"

"The Assistant Manager gave him a key to Sergeant Havers' room. It looks like Scott took her at about 11 pm. That means he has at least nine hours to transport her goodness knows where. Any clues up there?"

"Er, yes. How far away is Lafferty?"

"She's not..."

"Hell no. Sorry. No, there's no sign of Havers, but there are things we need him to examine. I think you and Hillier had better get up here. Room 334. I'll send my sergeant down to arrest the Assistant manager."

* * *

Tommy stared at the open laptop. Mathews had used a pen on the keyboard not expecting it to flash up. Tommy was almost sorry it had. Several photos of Barbara taken throughout yesterday danced across the screen. The man was obsessed with her.

"Oh shit," Mathews uttered, "that's not...?"

Tommy shook his head. "No, Barbara was shot several years ago in the abdomen. She would have scars."

"So Photoshop?"

Tommy nodded. "Probably, Barbara's head is from those other photos. I presume he pasted them onto some naked women. Turn it off. It disgusts me."

Mathews went to close the laptop. "Ooo."

"What?"

The DCI pointed to the keyboard. Tommy looked down. there were three sticky patches. "Lafferty will test it, but it looks like semen." It surprised him how matter-of-fact he sounded. Inside a small rage was slowly developing. The thought of Mr Bean 2 sitting and pleasuring himself over images of Barbara was beyond disgusting. When he caught Scott, and he knew he would be the one to do it, he would tear him apart, cell by cell.

"Sir." A young man burst into the room. His face was red and his breathing laboured.

Mathews looked up. "What is it, Forster?"

"A hotel robe... in the trees by the lake..." He paused as he sucked in air. "It..." The man looked at Lynley then looked away. "It has blood on it. A lot of blood."

Mathews' face fell. He looked at Tommy. "Any sign of...?"

The man shook his head. "No, but they're all out looking; combing the lake edge and trees."

"Thank you. I'll ask Hillier to call in the police divers."

Tommy shook his head. "She's not there. She's not dead. I would know."

Mathews' patted his arm as if comforting a child. "We have to look."

Tommy left the room. He needed air. He walked downstairs and out to the carpark to wait for Winston and Stuart. All he could think was, "I'm so sorry, Barbara. I wanted to stay."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** Sorry for the delay, real life has distracted me. The final chapter should be up in a day or two.

* * *

"Sir, any news?"

Tommy looked up to see Winston climbing out of a white van. Stuart rustled around from the driver's side, pulling a blue forensic suit over his jeans and shirt. Lynley shook his head. "They found a bathrobe covered in blood by the lake. The divers should be here soon, but Barbara's not in there. She's still alive."

"Yes, of course, she is," Lafferty said without his usual sarcasm or jocularity.

Tommy noticed the worried glances that his colleagues gave each other. He understood. As an investigator, he should assume the worst too. But he was sure she was alive. He did not know how, but he knew he was right. Barbara was cold and frightened and needed him, but she was very much alive. He had to stay calm, follow the clues and find her. No one would deter him. "A team has gone to Scott's house, somewhere in Colchester. Initial reports indicate that he is not there and there has been no sign of him since yesterday morning before the conference started. We found some images of Barbara on his laptop. He had cut and pasted her head onto disgusting nude pictures. It appears he had been..." Tommy stopped and swallowed hard. "Self-pleasuring himself over them."

"Classy. Do you want me to do this creep's room first, or the robe?" Stuart asked.

Lynley looked across and frowned. "Huh? Oh, no Mathews is in charge of the investigation. Hillier thought I was too close to... it. See him, but I would test the robe. It's too... convenient... finding it like that."

"A false trail?"

"I think so. It gives him more time to get away while we scratch around here like chickens."

"Yeah," Winston said as he stroked his chin, "makes sense, but who carries extra blood around with them?"

"Let's go," Stuart said as he guided Winston away. Tommy heard him mutter something about leaving the man with hope.

"She's not dead," he called after them, "everyone needs to believe that."

* * *

Walking back and forth behind the cordon line, Tommy wore away ten yards of verdant grass to expose damp, black soil. A thousand thoughts bombarded his brain. Recriminations, doubts, regrets. They all clamoured for attention. He stopped and ran his hand slowly through his hair as a grim-faced Stuart walked towards him.

"My preliminary test confirms the blood is human. I can't type-match it to Barbara here, so I can't say if it is or isn't hers. I can let people know about an hour after I get back to the lab. Her blood type will be on her file. However..."

"What?"

"The spray pattern is like someone who has had their throat cut."

"Oh, God." Tommy reeled back and bumped into Winston whose steadying hand kept him upright.

"No, listen. I said it is similar. There are also some differences that make me think someone sprayed it to look like that. I don't think anyone was in the robe when the blood was applied. Now I normally don't make a call without testing it thoroughly, but I agree with you, Lynley, I think Scott is trying to make everyone believe he has murdered her while he gets further away. Mathews doesn't agree, and Hillier also seems to fear the worst. They want me to have a look at his room before I leave."

Tommy breathed out a long slow breath. His lungs had stopped functioning when Stuart had raised the possibility Scott had slashed Barbara's throat. "We can't wait for them to catch up. Nkata, this hotel is crawling with criminologists. Find someone who worked with Scott. Someone who knows him well. Bring them up to the room. Top floor, follow the tape. We haven't any more time to waste."

* * *

As Stuart examined the room and took samples of hair and fibre, Tommy waited for Nkata to bring up the criminologist. He glanced at his watch. It was just after eleven. Scott was half a day ahead of them.

"Sir, this is Brian Walthorpe. He works with Scott at the University of Essex. This is Detective Inspector Lynley."

Tommy shook the man's hand. "Thank you for helping. We believe Scott may have abducted my... er, Sergeant Havers. He seemed to take an interest in her yesterday, and we found some very damning evidence on his laptop that shows he had an unhealthy obsession with her. Is there anything you can tell us about Scott? What his background is? What his motives might be? Where about have taken Sergeant Havers? Really, anything you think might be relevant."

Walthorpe nodded. "He's a bloody odd fish; I know that, so it doesn't surprise me. Brilliant mind though. He was never close to any of us. I heard that he was once quite normal, but his wife and daughter died several years ago, and he... degenerated."

"Do you know how they died?"

"A nasty car accident from what I gathered. There was something odd about it. I remember people saying that, but I can't recall was it was."

Tommy took a small breath as a pause, trying not to rush the man. "Do you know when this happened? Or where?"

"About ten years, not that long before I started in the department. I think it was in Wales somewhere, but I really can't say for sure, I'm sorry."

"Winston, log in and see if you can find anything on the database." Tommy shifted onto his other foot. "Take your time, Mr Walthorpe. Anything we learn is useful. Did they live in Wales?"

"No, I think they had been visiting family."

"Was Scott with them?"

"I..." Walthorpe shrugged. "I'm sorry. I have no idea."

"That's fine, Mr Walthorpe. What can you tell me about Scott now?"

"He lives alone. Somewhere close to campus. Greenstead? Maybe Wivenhoe? I'm not sure. The uni will have it on file."

"We have his address and have sent a team around. He was not there."

"Oh, okay. Yes, of course, you would have access to that information. Um... what else? He hates dentists with a passion. Tells everyone they are Satan's children sent to torment us. I wish he would go to one though. Have you smelled his breath? I always wondered if he went when he was married. I mean, no one could sleep in the same room as him with that... odour."

"Yes, I am aware he has oral hygiene issues. I am more concerned about his activities. His interests. Does he have any hobbies? What was his main line of research? Does he have any friends or people he talks about? Have you any idea where he may have taken her?"

Walthorpe took a step back. "He researches serial killers."

Winston groaned. Tommy looked at him briefly and frowned. Winston moved away with his fingers swiping over pages on his tablet. Tommy turned back to the criminologist. "What aspects?"

"Mostly motives, killing methods, and how they eventually get caught. He used to mock-up some of the crimes, especially the grisly ones. He had a thing about decapitation. I mean a real thing about it. He had complaints from a class one day when he used a mannequin to demonstrate how to cut someone's throat. He used real blood, and it sprayed everywhere. Students were splattered. Some of them fainted or ran out screaming."

"Do you know where he got the blood from?"

"Well, this is the creepy part. It was his blood. He blood lets."

"I'm sorry. I'm not familiar with that term."

"He regularly removes some of his blood. He showed me his leg once. He has a canula in there to make it easier. He inserts a needle and takes about 200 ml every week."

Tommy took a second to reconcile Walthorpe's words. He had access to blood, and it was looking more likely that he had staged the bloody robe by the lake. Tommy had to be sure that was not his wishful thinking. "Do you know what he does with the blood? Does he store it? Or use it in some way?"

"You mean like drinking it? It is possible, Inspector. I never sensed that, although when the faculty reprimanded him for his stunt with the mannequin, he didn't care. It was as if..."

"As if what?"

"He felt alive. Oh, shit. Should we have seen it then? Do you think he has... decapitated her?"

Tommy's feet refused to move. "No, not yet at least. But we must find him. Is there anything else about that day, or that case?"

"The woman was killed in her own home. They caught the killer because he had targeted her instead of picking another random victim. A neighbour recognised his car from days before when he had cased her house."

At home? Relief followed by fear rippled through him. He closed his eyes. He could no longer see Barbara. "Winston," he called far louder than was required in the small room.

"Sir?"

"Get a team around to Sergeant Havers' flat immediately. It is possible Scott has taken her there."

"Sure." Winston held out the tablet. "Sir, I think you need to see this."

Tommy took the tablet. Winston had found the files from the accident. It had happened on a lonely stretch of road near Llanwrtyd. A Cardiff dentist had lost control on a bend and smashed into Scott's vehicle. It had thrown his 11-year-old daughter clear, but Scott had been trapped by his legs. His wife had scrambled from the car and rushed to their daughter. A coal truck came around the bend, and although it braked hard, it had run over both of them, crushing his daughter and decapitating his wife. Scott had lain for several hours with the head of his wife just out of reach outside his car. Tommy swiped to open the next page. His finger froze on the screen.

"Stuart!"

The pathologist looked up and frowned. "Did you find something?"

"We have to get to London." He shoved the tablet at Stuart. "Show this to Mathews and Hillier."

Stuart looked then blew a long whistle between his teeth. "Mother of Shakespeare, no wonder he took Barbara. Apart from the dark hair, this woman is Barbara's doppelganger."


	4. Chapter 4

I thought I could get away with only one more chapter but it seems not.

* * *

"Sir, slow down. We can't save Sergeant Havers if we're dead."

Tommy shot Winston a look that would have burned through the heat shield of the space shuttle, but he eased his foot off the accelerator. "Why haven't they rung back yet?"

Beside him, Winston sighed. "It's only been ten minutes, Sir. You heard what the Special Ops guy said, there are no obvious signs of life, but the neighbour thought they heard an argument coming from her flat about an hour ago. They have sent for the heat seeker. If anyone is alive in there, we'll know."

Lynley grimaced. He did not want to think about Barbara not being alive. In the hour since they had left the hotel on the southern outskirts of Colchester, his feeling of connectedness to Barbara had faded. Whether she was injured or had given up hope that he would find her, the consequences were equally terrible. He tried to focus his mind on reassuring her he was on his way. If he could feel her, then perhaps she could feel him. "She's alive, Winston. She's alive."

Tommy obeyed the speed until Winston began to make some phone calls. Then he gently accelerated to sit about 10 miles over the limit.

* * *

They arrived at the police cordon near the flat just under ninety minutes after they had left the motel. The heat sensing camera drone was being set up. "They are going to fly it all around the flat and see if they can detect anything," Winston reported to Tommy after he had spoken to the technicians. "We should have some news within ten minutes."

Tommy knew he would incur everyone's wrath, but he had waited long enough. "Tell them not to bother."

He pulled blue nitrile gloves from his jacket pocket and hurriedly put them on as he dashed up the street towards Barbara's front door. If anything had happened inside, he did not want Hillier accusing him of contaminating the scene. He fingered his key ring in his trouser pocket and felt for her key. She had given him an emergency key with a plastic cover over the bow decorated as a female bobby. He had laughed at the time but was grateful now. Tommy quickly inserted it into the lock and turned it. Pushing the door open a few inches, he peered inside. All the blinds were drawn, and on a dull mid-afternoon, the flat was lit only with a soft, eerie yellow light that defied her cheap curtains.

He took a breath then pushed the door open and stepped inside. The hair on his neck stood on end when he saw a discarded bathrobe from the hotel. They were here. Or at least they had been. "Barbara? It's me... Tommy."

A faint muffled rustle came from his left. He turned towards it when he caught a movement in the opposite direction. Instinct made him turn. A large cast iron frypan descended from a height towards his head. He turned and jumped, allowing it to hit on his back near the shoulder blade. It hurt like hell, and he heard a crack. "Oomf."

"How did you find us?" Scott demanded. He was holding Barbara's largest kitchen knife. Tommy knew it as sharp because she was always too afraid to use it in case she popped off a finger.

"It was obvious." Tommy was pleased to see his adversary confused.

"I thought...

"That you could outsmart a bunch of dumb cops?" Tommy pressed home the advantage that he hoped would give him an opportunity to disarm Mr Bean. "I am not stupid, and I share a connection with Barbara that you will never have."

"Margaret."

"Margaret?"

"My wife. I brought my wife here so we could be reunited. It's almost over. I will join her soon."

Lynley was conscious that sweat was trickling down his back. "Where is Margaret?"

Scott flicked the knife toward Barbara's bedroom. Tommy had never been inside, but he knew from her description that it had no easy exit as there was only a high window running above her bed. To escape, they would have to overpower Scott. He had no idea of Barbara's condition, but not sensing any connection to her. He suspected she was not fit and healthy. Not taking his eye from Scott, he shuffled back towards the door.

As he neared, he could hear groaning coming from the room. She was alive. Adrenaline pumped through him giving him new strength and determination. He pushed the door open and stepped back into the room. "Barbara, I'm here."

"Sir? Hel...p meee."

A strange acrid ammonia smell assaulted his nostrils. He glanced at Barbara before trying to shut the door on Scott. The glance had cost him the fraction of a second it had taken for Scott to wedge his foot between the doorframe and the cheap, flimsy door. Each man grunted as they pushed. Tommy braced one leg back and leant his shoulder against the door. Pain shot from his shoulder to his heel. He quickly backed off his weight and leant his uninsured shoulder against the door. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his chest heaved with heavy pants that were timed with the surges of pain into his shoulders and back.

Tommy lowered his head in an effort to push harder. He had assumed that when he did not return quickly, Winston would organise a team to raid the flat. His ears strained to hear footsteps, but the only sound was the wheezing breath of Scott. The ammonia smell was being overwhelmed by the foul whiff of Scott's breath that reminded him of the rancid shark eat eaten by the Scandinavians. With his head lowered, he could see Barbara. He quickly looked away. She was splayed naked the bed with only a small towel covering her pelvis. Her breasts were covered in red scratches as if they had been clawed by rough talons. Her hands and feet were bound with rough hemp rope stained brown where she had struggled and worn away her skin. What shocked him most was that her hair was black. At first, he assumed a wig, but when he dared a second look, he could see it had been dyed.

Tommy feared what Scott May have done. He wanted to go to her, to cover and comfort her. She had seen him glance at her and had looked away. He could feel her shame as if it were his own. "Barbara, look at me. It's okay. None of this is your fault."

"I... he..."

"Save your strength, Barbara. Let me deal with him first."

Tommy released his weight on the door. When Scott overbalanced, Tommy rammed the door into his head. Scott moves his foot to balance, and Tommy slammed the door. Without a lock, that gave him only a momentary reprieve. He turned and leant his weight against the door.

"Arrrrgggghhhhhhhh!"

Scott slammed into the door. The handle gave way, and the door pushed open forcing Tommy into the room. He spun to face Scott. The man had lost touch with reality. For the first time, Tommy saw that he was also naked. His worst fears for Barbara seemed true. Scott sank into a semi-crouch. His eyes burned fiercely in the dull light. His body was unseemingly hairy. With the smell, the hair, and the eyes he looked like a rabid animal.

"She's mine, Lynley. Not yours. My Margaret came back to me." Scott looked across at Barbara with genuine love.

Tommy felt sorry for him, but he had to protect Barbara. He took two steps to his left to stand between her and Scott. He opened his arms and lowered his shoulders ready to respond. "She's not yours, Scott. You will never touch her again."

Scott leapt at him. The knife grazed Tommy's left arm slicing through his jacket. Tommy reached up with his right hand and grabbed Scott's throat. Scott pulled back, but Tommy tightened his grip, searching with his thumb and forefinger for the arteries that would cut off the blood to Scott's brain. He watched as the man's eyes grew wider and wilder. The pain was intense as Tommy felt the knife slip into his side.

Behind him, Barbara squealed. It was an urgent, angry cry. Tommy jerked sideways and rammed the heel of his hand upward into Scott's nose. The knife handle was slick with blood and slid from Scott's grip but stayed imbedded in his side. Scott tottered on his heels. Tommy still had him by the throat. He tried to punch him but had no strength in his hand. In a move he considered unsporting, Tommy reached out and found Scott's genitals. He clamped his hand around them. His disgust at feeling them wet and slippery was overwhelmed by the feeling of failing strength and little pinpricks of light flashing in his eyes. He yanked them down and twisted his hand 180 degrees.

"Arrrrrrrroooooooyaaaaaaaaa."

Scott's scream came directly out of Hell. He moved backwards, and Tommy let him fall. With a sickening crunch, Scott's head slammed against the edge of Barbara's bedside table. His limp body rolled to the side.

A barely audible whimpering broke the sudden silence. He looked at Barbara. Her face was turned away from him. "I'm here, Barbara."

Holding the knife in his wound, Tommy bent down cautiously and felt his adversary's neck. There was a faint pulse. With only hand available hand, the search of his pockets for his phone took too long. His hands shook as he fumbled to unlock it. "Winston. Get the hell in here, and we need three ambulances." He shoved the phone in his trouser pocket then slipped off his jacket.

He carefully placed it over his sergeant, covering her modesty. He then climbed onto the bed and put his arm over her ensuring that the knife did not go deeper into his side he pulled her sobbing face against his chest. "You're safe, Barbara. I'm here."

* * *

When Tommy woke, he was under bright lights. "Wake up Mr Lynley. You have to wake up."

He opened his eyes. A small African woman with beaded hair was shaking him. "Where...?" He tried to sit up but fell back with the pain in his side.

"Whoa, Mr Lynley. Steady on."

"Barbara. Where's Barbara?"

"I don't know who that is. You've been in surgery. You're in recovery. Do you remember being stabbed?"

Tommy nodded. "I need to know how Barbara Havers is. It is important. Get someone here who can tell me."

"Cool. Stay calm, Mr Lynley. I will find out if you co-operate. Now what's your full name?"

"Thomas Edward William Lynley, Eighth Earl of Asherton. Now find me someone who can tell me how Barbara is."

The nurse nodded and hurried away.

Within ten minutes, Stuart appeared at his bed dressed in scrubs. "They didn't let you operate did they?" Lynley asked.

"No, I'm out of practice in live ones. I observed. The doctor did a good job. He was very pleased you did not pull out the knife."

"I heard that from you once."

"You listen to what I say? Well, that's a first."

"Cut the small talk. I want to know how Barbara is."

"Physically, not too bad. She is covered in scratches. The nurses washed them and dressed the worst ones and started antibiotics. She insisted they dye her hair back to its proper colour. In a week, she will be fine."

Tommy shook her head. "No, she won't. He... violated her."

Stuart put his hand on Lynley's shoulder. "No. There is no evidence of that. He appears to have masturbated while he watched her. We think he intended to... couple with her as his final act before killing her, and probably himself. You prevented that."

Tommy tried unsuccessfully to stop a tear before it leaked from his eye. "Small mercy, but she must be traumatised. How do you recover from that?"

Stuart squeezed his shoulder. "She's strong, but she will need help. Something tells me you might be the key to that."

Tommy shook his head. "She was mortified when I found her like that."

"She would have been mortified that anyone did, but also very grateful. You both need time to recover. Maybe get away from London... and perhaps it's time to tell her how you feel about her."

Tommy bristled. "She's my..."

"Life?" Stuart interjected. "Your reason for living? The woman you love? I don't care how you phrase it, just damned well tell her." He turned and walked up the corridor.


	5. Chapter 5

It was six hours before they allowed Tommy to visit Barbara. A besieged nurse wheeled him into his sergeant's room just after midnight after he convinced her he would buzz every two minutes all night unless he knew Barbara was safe.

"You can stay five minutes, and if she's asleep, don't wake her," the nurse hissed in his ear.

He nodded, unsure if he intended to obey either instruction. The nurse wheeled him up to the bed. Barbara was staring at the ceiling. "Barbara."

She turned her head away. "He stabbed you."

"Yes, but I will be fine. It missed everything important."

"They told me you would be okay."

"Look at me, Barbara."

"No, I can't. You... saw what he did."

"Exactly. What he did. Not you."

"He..." She turned her head. Tommy grimaced when he saw the bruises across her face. "See." She turned away again.

He reached out and stroked her ear. It was the only part of her face he could reach. "No, it's just that I didn't know he had beaten you. I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I should never have left you."

She rolled over and stared at him. "No. You were right. It wasn't the right... place. Neither of us was to know..."

"He was behaving irrationally. I should have checked on his history or done something more to keep you safe. I failed you."

"No, you didn't. Winston told me you worked out where he had me, and that you charged in without backup. You... got there in time. No one else would have."

Tommy sat upright. "Winston? He's seen you before me?"

Barbara smiled. "He sat with me while you were in surgery. I was... a little hysterical. I thought you had died. After you lay down with me, I couldn't feel you breathing... I..."

"I wouldn't leave you."

"We don't always get that choice."

Tommy looked down. They were both thinking about Helen. "No, but when you grabbed my shirt and moved closer, I... knew we would be okay. We will be, won't we?"

She took his hand. "I don't know. I... He was going to cut my head off. He kept calling me Margaret."

"That was his wife. She was... decapitated in a motor vehicle accident."

"He... did... things to me." She pulled her hand away.

Tommy reached over and took it back between his palms. They sat in silence for several minutes before he stroked her hand. "They will arrange counselling for you. It's important to work through it."

Barbara pulled her hand away and sat up. "Hypocrite."

"No, I'm not. I made a mistake not pursuing it. I don't want you to have the same problems I had."

Barbara let him retake her hand. "I... can't tell a stranger."

"I'm not a stranger."

"But... do you promise not to overreact and lose your temper?"

"No, but I am angry at him, not you. Why don't you try to tell me as much as you can?"

"Sir."

"Tommy. I think we are well past Sir."

"Tommy... can you turn off the light?"

There was a switch on the wall near the door. Tommy stood and slowly pushed his wheelchair over to it. He turned off the light and wedged the wheelchair into the space beside the door making it virtually impossible to open from the corridor. "That should keep them out."

When he returned to the bed, Barbara lifted her sheet. "Which side do you need to be on?"

"The left."

Barbara shuffled over as he climbed gingerly in beside her. "Now people will talk."

"Let them. I am not making the mistake of leaving you again."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Only if it helps you."

She nodded and moved her face close to his on the pillow. "When he barged into my room, he had a key. I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. I thought at first it was you changing your mind. Then I saw him. His eyes were crazed. I tried to fight him, but he clawed at me, and then he punched me. When I woke up, I was all bent up in the boot of his car. He took me to my flat. He made me dye my hair. Then..."

She shivered against him, and Tommy wrapped his arm more tightly around her. "Take your time. You're doing well."

"I had a robe on. He had my kitchen knife. He... told me to take it off. I didn't at first, but then he punched me again. This time when I woke up, he had tied me to my bed..." Barbara let out a whimper.

Tommy caressed her hair softly. "It's okay... it's okay."

"He put the knife down, and then he... took off his clothes. I shut my eyes, but he touched me. I tried to pull away, but the ropes were too tight." She took a deep breath.

"He called me Margaret and told me how much he had missed me. He promised we would make love later, but first he needed to... watch me. He..." She buried her face against his neck.

"Pleasured himself?"

Barbara looked up at him as if she was amazed that he knew. "Yes. I tried not to watch, but he poked his knife into my foot. I... had to look at him. It... seemed to turn him on... When he finished, he... left me. I tried to break free. He came back about an hour later. He... had that small towel. He used his knife to cut off my bra... then my..." She stopped speaking.

"Oh, Barbara. I'm so sorry."

"He did it again, with me naked. It was horrible... I felt... defiled. Unclean. Then he put that towel over me as if that somehow made it dignified. I had wanted you to save me, but that was the point I stopped hoping. I wished I was dead."

Anger burned inside his gut. "I will kill him."

"Don't, Tommy. We can't both be bitter and twisted about this."

"I'm sorry. I had felt your need for me. Then it stopped. I was so afraid, Barbara, of what he might have done."

She nodded and snuggled against him. "I understand, I would feel the same if it had been you."

"We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we are. Do you want me to continue?"

"Yes."

She took a deep breath. "The next time, Scott told me he was going to... you can imagine. Then he said he would cut my head off then stab himself through the heart and die on top of me. He started to... touch me. I screamed at him. He got angry and scared, and he had rough fingernails. He pawed at me and scratched me. Then he left. Then I heard you."

"I was so relieved that you were alive."

"I felt so ashamed. You seeing me like that... I..."

He kissed her forehead. "Don't be. I tried not to look. I didn't want to see you naked."

"Thanks."

"Not like that. I do want to see you naked one day when we both want it. But not like that."

"Ta, but I don't know if... we can ever be... alright."

"We will be. Just as we always have been. Look at us now. We only want the other to comfort us."

"Tommy."

He frowned. "Mmm?"

"You wanted... us to be more than friends?"

Tommy nodded. "Yes."

"Even after this?"

"Oh, Barbara. What happened changes nothing. I still want us to be together, and when... if you're ready, then I will be the one to make love to you for the rest of our lives."

"Oh, will you indeed?"

Tommy laughed. "I hope so."

Barbara pulled away. "I am not sure we can ever be... more. I don't think I can... do that. With anyone... it's not you... if I could, I would want it to be you. It's just..."

He hugged her more tightly and caressed her back with firm even circles of his fingers. "Hey, one day at a time. Stuart put everything into perspective. You are my reason for living. If that means you are my friend that's enough. If... you change your mind, I will be here. I love you, Barbara. I want to spend my life with you... in whatever capacity."

"Thank you. I... need time."

"And you have it. Just so long as you don't disappear inside yourself."

"I won't, I promise, but I may never want to be closer than this."

Tommy kissed her forehead again. "This is perfect. I thought we should go to Howenstowe to recover."

Barbara shook her head. "No. I'm sorry. Not there. It's too... big."

"Okay. My place?"

She shook her head.

"Do you want me to stay at Chalk Farm?"

Barbara let out a small wail. "I can't go back there. Ever. I will sell it and everything in it except for my mementos of Terry. I can't. I just can't."

He stroked her face and wiped away her tears. "You don't have to. And I will find somewhere for us to go. Name a place or a climate, and I will take you."

"Warm. Tropical. Sunny."

* * *

They had spent the rest of the night looking on his phone for places to recuperate. Tommy knew part of it was a distraction. Barbara seemed scared to sleep as if she knew nightmares would plague her. He was tired, but he was determined not to leave her alone to her thoughts.

"It's summer in Australia," he suggested.

"Too far."

"So far you have found a reason not to go anywhere."

"Yeah..."

"Barbara?"

"What if...?"

"Yes?"

"I don't cope with this?"

"You will. We will. Together. I'm not expecting you to walk out of here and be better. I know it will take time. I know some days you will hate me because I am a man. I am prepared for that if you are willing to try."

"Your place might be best after all."

"Then I will see if we can go home today. I don't know about you, but I would rather be out of here."

She nodded. "Yeah, me too."

* * *

Barbara had been at Tommy's for nearly three months. They were both on extended medical leave although he doubted either of them would return. He had arranged for a contractor to sort her flat and store everything in case she changed her mind. They listed it with a local agent and had already received three offers.

"Are you sure?" he asked as she prepared to sign the contract.

"I am. I can't go back. You know I already have nightmares about that."

He nodded. "Have you thought what you will do?"

Her face fell, and she looked down. "You want me to buy somewhere else."

"No. I want you to stay here, but it has to be your decision, not something you fall into by default."

"Like your bed."

Tommy had given Barbara one of the spare bedrooms, but on the first night, she had experienced such bad nightmares that he had taken her back to his bed and held her until she slept. She had not moved back. "I want you in my bed, Barbara. We both sleep better."

She nodded. "I could invest the money."

"That sounds very sensible. I can make some suggestions if you like, or put you in touch with my advisor."

"Ta." She scribbled her name and passed the contract to him to witness.

He signed then looked up and smiled. "Do you fancy dinner at Jordan's?"It had become her favourite restaurant, and he knew she would agree.

"I'll get my coat."

* * *

Barbara had been unusually quiet over dinner. It was a steamy night for London, and Tommy assumed she was emotionally and physically tired. They shared a nightcap before Tommy suggested they retire.

"Tommy... I think I will stay in my room tonight."

"Oh. Yes, of course. Is everything alright? Have I said anything wrong? Done anything?"

She took his hand and squeezed it. "No. Now that I have sold the flat, I want to think about the next steps. Whether I go back to the Met. What to do about... things."

He nodded. "I understand. You know where I am if you need me."

"Thanks. Good night."

"Good night, Barbara."

They walked up the stairs together. He paused, hoping she might change her mind. "Well, sleep well."

"You too." She opened the bedroom door then turned back to him. "I haven't said it, but I do love you."

He smiled. "I love you too."

"I know. Good night."

* * *

It was hot in his room. The ceiling fan did little to relieve the fugginess. With Barbara not sharing his bed, Tommy forewent his pyjamas. The sheets were momentarily cool against his skin.

A few hours later, he woke when his door opened. "Tommy?'

He sat up but did not turn on the light so that she did not see his nakedness. "Are you okay? Nightmare?"

"No. I haven't been to sleep yet." she lifted the sheet and slid in beside him.

"Right. Well, close your eyes for a minute. It was hot so I... I will find my shorts."

She edged towards him. "Don't. I... don't have any on either."

Tommy swallowed hard. "You... don't?"

"No."

"Yes, well, it is a hot night."

"Hold me."

"But... we're... undressed."

"Does that mean your arms don't work?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Tommy lifted his arm so that she could snuggle against him. Her skin was warm. Sweat quickly developed between them where they touched and as she moved, she slid over him. He suppressed a groan, but he was unable to suppress his reaction to how wonderful it felt. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

He was careful not to rush her. "I'm not really. You know I love you."

"Show me."

"Are you sure?"

"I think so."

"We can stop at any time."

"I'm hoping that's unnecessary."

Tommy kissed her cheek. "I don't mind. We could string this out over several days... I could slowly warm you up."

"You have been. For weeks."

He kissed her ear. "Not intentionally. When you didn't want to be with me tonight... I have never felt more alone. I want you here with me forever."

"I want to stay."

"Then marry me."

Barbara tangled his hair around her fingers and guided his face back to her. "I probably will, but just kiss me now, and we'll go from there."


End file.
